Once Upon A Time: A tale of A Dragon Age Romance
by MouseMage
Summary: Once upon a time, two would be lovers are brought together by a mabari donning a pair of smelly socks. A story written by two friends fuelled by cider lol enjoy, may include more episodes if recieved well. Co-writer Leask
1. Once Upon a Time A Dragon Agew Romance

_**Once upon a time, outside Lothering (before it was destroyed!)**_

It was night time. The evening stars shone bright in the sky, and their breath clouded in the frosty air. The tension between the two foes could be cut with Starfang, and even that blade may not have been sharp enough.

Alistair could feel the sweat beading on his brow as he stared down his opponent. Black beady eyes stared back at him. They were filled with evil. They were filled with malcontent for the templar fixated upon him. Alistair was convinced it was an evil that could never be vanquished. Not without a hoard of griffons anyway.

"Alistair, are you harrassing my dog again?"

"He stole my socks this time!"

Suami gazed at the scene before her. Her ruthless marabi warhound was lying on his belly with his forepaws crossed over a pair of rather pungent _ dry _socks. Suami was sure there was a hole in one. Alistair, the renowned grey warden and former templar had his crouched before the beast (sockless) and had his sword drawn in a rather unconvincing manner.

Her eyes wandered from the pair of foes to the rest of camp. In the background Sten investigated the content of his nostrils, Oghren quietly fell backwards into a heap of a drunken stupor, Wynne was concentrating on grinding potions, Leliana gently plucked the strings of bardic harp, Morrigan had disappeared as usual and Zevran, ah Zevran. He was honing his dagger in the most suggestive way possible. From across the fire he winked at the rogue group leader.

Sighing she returned her attention to the conflict before her. "Do you not have another pair of socks?" Suami said, exasperation creeping into her voice.

Alistair's cheeks turned beetroot red. "They're..." He began to mumble. "Dirty."

"Since when did you care if they were dirty?"

"But...they um...Smell!" Alistair replied triumphantly.

"So do those ones."

"Only since your mabari drooled all over them!"

"Hey!" Suami's normally friendly face turned into a frown. "He has a name, you know. Virgin."

Alistair's blushed turned positivly purple. "Heeeeey......" He paused. "What is the beast's name anyway? You never told us, I feel akward shouting 'Hey drooling mongrol! Get that darkspawn please!' in the midst of battle."

Suami paused, one hand raised in an accusatory point. She with drew her hand, resting it akwardly by her side. She could feel the blush beginning at her toes and hurridly rushing towards her cheeks.

".....Um..."

"Come ooooon..." Alistair urged, "You called me virgin. It's only fair."

"Well...he does respond to Dog these days...."

"But that's not his name now..." Alistair stood up, folding his arms over his chest, and raising an eyebrow. He could really sense victory this time. It was close.

Suami glanced at her feet, and then to the mabari, who was no help and started to happily chew Alistair socks.

"It's...." A deep intake of breath, voice dropping whisper. "Schmoopals."

And then silence.

Suami cursed herself inwardly. She should've made up another name! The dog responded to whatever she called anyway, and desperatly ignored everyone else. Alistair would've never known! But those big brown eyes seemed to draw out all the honesty within her. Even if it was mortifying.

Alistair produced one, short sharp snort. Which was quickly followed by several more. The grin upon his face began to expand, and his shoulder's began to shake. It wasn't long before the sniggers started, which Suami had to give the templar credit for, as he tried unsuccessfully to surpress with his hand. Then sniggers turned to guffaws, then chuckles, it swiftly moved from that point and exploded into complete hysterics, which caused him to bend over double.

Suami's look would've killed the arch demon (if Alistair hadn't been too busy giggling to notice) . Her hands balled into fists and the humiliation of her innocence intensified. "He's 13 years old!" She retorted, which was drowned in Alistair's laughter. "I was seven! What did you call your first pet? Mr Swoopy?!"

A lilting accent echoed in her ear. "What's this about Mr Swoopy?" Zevran casually enquired. His hand gestured at Alistair. "You're not seriously considering Mr Swoopy with him are you? He's nowhere near flexiable enough to enjoy such manover. I mean, he's all muscle but he lacks the finess."

Alistair's laughter was cut short. "Huh?" He replied eloquently to Zevran's musings. But the elf did not listen. He turned to the skys, as if imagining a room. "Besides," He went on, oblivious to Suami's Arch Demon felling glare. "You'd need a good sturdy ceiling beam to descend from. These trees are not strong enough"

Suami quieted the enthusastic elf with a stay of her hand. She pointed towards the camp fire. "Quiet time Zevran. Leave."

He opened his mouth to protest, hands lifted in an apologetic manner "But I only offer adv--"

"NOW."

Deflated, Zevran hung his head, "Well, perhaps Wynne will permit me to admire her magical bosom once more...." The assassin moved off.

"She let him do it once already?" Alistair queried.

"Happy now?" Suami snapped at the jolly warden.

"Very." Alistair declared, smugly.

"Are you sure?" Suami answered, her blue eyes glancing towards her mabari.

The sight that met Alistair's eyes, was grizzly one. It was a massacre. It was horrific, his socks had been shredded into irreparable pieces, that not even Morrigan would wear.

"My soooooocks!" He lamented, loud enough for the rest of camp to start paying attention.

"A small victory." Suami gloated.

"Not so fast.... Schmoopals." He retorted. "Since you own the beast, you can replace them."

"Don't call me that." Suami warned.

"Really, Schmoopals? What are you going to do?" Alistair was really getting to big for his boots.

"For starters," The rogue hissed, "I'd take that dagger and split that tunic."

Alistair glanced down at his (slightly food stained) tunic. "...What?"

"And thats just for starters. There may involve flogging."

Enthusastically Zevran raised his hand in the background. "Count me in!"

Leliana and Wynne chimed in with girlish laughter.

"And then there is the issue with your pants." Suami went on, revelling in Alistair's growing blush of anxiety. He was very much aware that all the eyes of camp (save Oghren's unconsious ones) were focused on him. Suddenly he longed for his splintmail.

"What...issue, with my pants?"

All of a sudden, Suami realised she had taken it too far and that the camp felt significantly smaller. The blush, finally, reached her cheeks. "Eh. Um." She flaultered.

Abruptly, Alistair discovered that he had stumbled upon stronger footing. He cocked his head and raised his (other) eyebrow. "Huh." Was his conclusion.

"They smell!" Suami spluttered, grasping _desperately_ straws. "Like your socks! Go wash them!" She pointed to the edge of camp.

"But the Schmo-- the _war-hound," _Alistair said carefully, "Has chewed them."

"Nevetherless!" Suami concluded, before hastily making a retreat to her tent.

Alistair glanced down at Schmoopls, who seemed to momentarily choke on a sock fragment before coughing it up with an undignified belch. The dog seemed to smile up at him happily.

"Hmm...I wonder if she likes me...?" He pondered, before heading over to the nearby stream to wash his clothes.

Suddenly his (bare) feet slipped on the wet pebbles. Being the hardened warrior that he was, he was about to let out a small whining about his boo-boo when his eyes fell upon something remarkable. Somehow, amongst all this despair and ugliness... a single rose had bloomed.


	2. Once Upon a Time A Dwarven Tavern

"Lets get the dog drunk." Oghren suggested, downing his pint.

"Yes!" Zevran agreed, "That is a fine idea. We should present ourselves with something challenging, instead of mourning our pasts."

Suami eyed her elven friend, and her...well...new dwarf. Friend. Drunk. "I..." She glanced down at Schmoopals, who looked at her expectantly and wagged his stump of tail. "I guess so... But I suspect he's too smart for that. I tried once before, with my uncle's own special brew."

"A Cousland? With a private still? Are you serious?" Zevran queried.

"Well, he wasn't really an uncle."

"Look at the dog!" Oghren declared, pointing at Schmoopals who was dragging a find over. "He found my pants! Stupid dog...stealing my pants..."

For a moment Zevran and Suami exchanged glances, then Zevran, being the braver of the two, glanced under the table. "Um...Oghren? Dear friend? You are already wearing your pants."

"Really?" The dwarf slurred, groping his own crotch with a dirty laugh. "Bwhahaha! So I am!

So what does the dog have?"

"I dunno...." Suami said, eyeing her pooch. "But I wouldn't try and take it off him, if I were you. He might bite your hand off."

"Hah! I doubt it." The Assassin grinned. "I am far too quick."

"That's not what a girl wants to hear Zevran."

The elf laughed, lifting one hand to brush a lock of hair from the warden's eyes. "Ah, but with you my dear I would ensure I was never quick, each moment would linger."

Gently she brushed away his hand, a smile playing upon her lips. "Really, Zevran?" Suami said, tilting her head at him, "We've been wandering the roads for how many weeks? And you attempt to seduce me now?"

"Well, here is as good a place as any, my lady."

"You're only trying it on here because this place is full of beards."

The elf gasped. "Really, honestly, my dear, I would still attempt to seduce you even with a beard. I'm sure it would be quite silky."

He received a quick clout around the ear, before Alistair's voice cut through the banter.

"You mangy mutt!! That's my favourite night shirt!"

The dog whined and crawled further under the table, presenting it to her by shoving his head in her lap. "Awww...whatcha got there boy?" She said gently, scratching one of his ears.  
"My night shirt! That's what he's bloody got! What am I supposed to sleep in now?"

"How about that man pouch of yours?" Suami teased.

Zevran smirked, it was positively filthy, he opened his mouth only to be silenced with Alistair glaring, "Don't even say it!"

"Ya know Allie, yer aaaalright." Suami slurred, waving a finger at him incoherently. Her eyes were half shut as she attempted to focus on the multiple wardens before her.

"To begin with..." She began to sway. Gingerly, Alistair reached out his hands and gripped her shoulders to steady her. It felt wrong, but touching her, even in this state, made his finger tips tingle. "I thought you were a self righteous, egotistical self obsessed, good for nothing, chantry following, virginal templar..."

"Um..Thank you--" Alistair began

"With a stick so far up your ass you couldn't bend over to tie your shoelaces, not that you'd have shoe laces because of your big clumsy oafish inelegant splintmail boots that you'd waken the whole golden city with them..."

"Suami!" Wynne attempted to interject.

"Shhh!" Suami waved an accusatory finger at the mage. "M' not Done!" Her attention returned to Alistair, who felt about a foot high,

"Where was I?"

"Splitmail boots!" Zevran helped.

"Ah yes! Those boots! Those bloody boots! I had nice dragonplate boots made for you, nice QUIET dragon plate boots, but noooo, you had to go stompy stompy..."

Suami wriggled out of Alistair's tentative grasp, to illustrate her point by stomping about in a small circle, arms waving around like chicken wings while crying "Stomp Stomp Stomp!"

Zevran giggled. Alistair had no idea how the assassin moved so stealthily while so inebriated. "She's right you know." He piped in, leaning on the warden's shoulder. "You do stomp. It's why I can never catch a rabbit to add to your terrible Ferelden death stew, and we're always stuck with oats. Would it kill you people to add a little spice?"

The dog began to bark excitedly, leaping around Suami's feet while she stomped. She paused, glancing down at the mabari whose whole back end began to wag with joy.

"Whose a good boy 'den!" She cooed, flomping down onto her knees to rub her hands over the dog's head. It rolled raptoursly onto it's belly. Alistair could feel the stares from all the dwarves in Tapsters, not to mention Wynne's dissaproving glare boring into the back of his head. As if she expected him to do something about it.

"Good boy indeed..." Alistair muttered. "Sock theiving mutt."

"Now now Alistaaaaaair." Suami chided coitishly, "He only steals socks that belong to good, honest, looooovely people. He obviously holds you in high regard, and I have always found him to be a great judge of character. Isn't that right Schmoopals?" She cooed at the dog once again. "Whose a clever boooy?"

That was it. She had called the beast by it's name in front of everyone. Alistair reached a conclusion.

"Suami?" Alistair began, cautiously. "Don't you think it's time for bed?"

"Bed?!" She declared, turning around from her perch on the floor to peer up at him. "Bed? When my new friend Oghren here has an open tab?" Suami gesticulated wildly towards a red headed dwarf propping up the bar. He waved happily, belched and then fell over.

"I think you are just a little...too drunk?" Alistair offered, looking desperately to Wynne for some assistance and finding none. She was stifling a smile, but swiftly turned it into a disapproving frown and a small "tut" under her breath.

"And _I_ think you need to get out of that stuffy stompy armour!" Suami grinned, lurching to her feet.

"....What?"

"You heard me." She said, taking a step closer, resting both her hands upon his broad chest. Her weight pressed against him as her step faltered, and she smiled up at him impishly. "Get it off. You're drawing entirely too muc---"

At that point Suami fell over inelegantly, dragging her fellow warden with her. Their bodies, entangled, hit the cobbled floor of the tavern with a great thump.

It was accompanied by a sullen crack as their heads clonked together with the impact.

"Ooooowwww!!!" Alistair whined, rolling onto his back and away from his friend.

"Oh don't whinge!" Suami scolded, rubbing at her forehead. "You're the one with the bigger head, you'll be fine. Think about my poor tiny head, being knocked about by your gigantic noggin'."

"Why thank you," Alistair said flatly.

"I didn't mean it as a compliment." She went on to explain, "I would say that it's just filled with air, but air wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe it's just bone? Perhaps I could wear your head as a helmet..."

Alistair got to his feet, brushing off his legs. He was seriously reconsidering his analogy with the rose. Perhaps she was more like rashvine nettle.

"But then I wouldn't be able to hear your witty banter. And I really do enjoy your witty banter Alistair, I really couldn't be without you and your banter."

There was a long silence as Suami got to her feet, during which she offered Alistair a smile. It was a sweet smile, not one he had seen on her face before. They were normally mocking, or condescending, or even playful, but never sweet. He was about to tell her so when Suami opened her mouth again and ruined the moment. "And your stompy boots, they're a good alarm clock."

Her blue eyes found Wynne, and the accusatory finger was back. "And you! Wynne, if you wrap my knuckles with that magey stick of yours again, I'll stick it somewhere that you'll need an entire team of specialists to remove it...."

"You know." Zevran said, quietly to Alistair. "I didn't even get a compliment, beyond the obvious of course." He flashed the warden a grin. "Time we put our dear lady to bed, yes?"

The next morning, Suami was woken by the sounds of Alistair stomping about the hallway out side their guest quarters in Bhelen's palace. She rolled over, her hang over monumental and hauled the bed covers over her head. "Damn those boots..." She muttered into her pillow.

Next there was a thundering knocking at her door.

"Go away!" Suami shouted, "I have the plague! Quarantine me!"

Alistair entered anyway, walking over to peer at his fellow warden, and poking her on the shoulder. "Good morning Schmoopals!" He said cheerily, before dragging the chair from the desk over.

Suami's blue eyes just glared from the safety of the covers as he parked his behind on the seat, and flumped his giant stompy splintmai--- Dragonplate boots on the edge of her bed. For a moment she was stunned, but stilled lurched out with one hand to shove them away. "Morning Mr Stompy Virgin."

He ignored her, leaning forward and setting before her a tankard.

"Hair of the dog?" Suami guessed, sitting up to reach for the mug and inspect it.

"No, something far sweeter." Alistair replied, offering a smile. _A bit like you, _he thought to himself, not daring to mention it though. "It should take the edge off your hangover."

"And what would you know about hangovers?" Suami was sitting upright, peering cautiously into the tankard before taking a sip.

"I was with the grey wardens a full Six Months before you joined, you know." Was Alistair's retort.

"...Thank you." Suami said, feeling the blush begin.

There was an awkward silence. Alistair fought to fill it but he was too aware of Suami's naked shoulders, and Suami beat him to it.

"So I've got a lead on the missing paragon, Branka? I met her husband in the tavern last night...."


	3. Once Upon a Time Camp Sharing

"Look what your fool dog left in my pack!" Morrigan announced, walking over to Suami. She was sat beside the fire, minding the stew. Schmoopals was half sleep, snuggled up with his old stuffed marabi plushie. It had one eye, and looked like it was about to lose the other.

Suami glanced up at Morrigan who threw down a carcass in front of her. The rogue stared at her blankly.

"A putrid half eaten hare is not what a woman wants to find among her unmentionables."

"You have unmentionables?" Suami queried, tilting her head curiously.

"And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

"Well...." Suami hesitated, and gestured vaguely in Morrigan's direction, then thought of better of it. "You know. Nevermind."

"What's going on?" Alistair interjected, settling himself down beside Suami by the fireplace. He'd brought potatoes, it was dinner time after all.

"Her drooling overbred war-mutt left a half chewed rabbit in my pack." Morrigan explained, her face like thunder.

"It must've been gift!" Suami protested, "He obviously likes you."

"Yes because nothing like a half eaten three day old rodent says 'I love you'" She hissed.

"It's better than having it steal your socks and nightshirt, I'm constantly asking Bodhan to keep an eye out for new socks. Apparently they are in short supply during a blight, Seemingly they're essential to dressing the darkspawn in their finery." Alistair, complained. Again.

"Oh stop going on about your fucking socks!" Suami growled, "I'll get you some new ones when we get to Denerim, OK? Fuck sake, give me that damn hare."

Morrigan kicked it towards the grey warden, who snatched it up and began to skin it.

"Um, what are you doing?" Alistair asked tentatively, afraid of the answer.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Suami hissed, stripping off what remained of the rabbit's hide. "I'm putting it in the fucking stew!"

Morrigan turned a little green. "Is that a wise idea?"

Suami glared at the witch.

"OK...well....I'll be over...there." She made a hasty retreat.

"Rabbit...stew?" Alistair hesitated.

"Yes, fucking rabbit stew. Zevran won't fucking shut up about it, Wynne keeps trying give me advice about...." She paused, glancing at the templar, "People," She went on, "Sten keeps going on about Asala, Leilana won't shut up about that fucking Maker and the FUCKING chantry, Oghren is the only who makes any sort of sense, and he's pissed all the time, and then there's you." Suami rounded on Alistair, the rabbit now skinned, and unceremoniously hacked to pieces. "You and your fucking SOCKS!" Suami put on a high pitched whingy voice. "Ehh, Suaaaami, your dog ate my sooocks, where's my shirt? He stole shirt too! Now he's eating my underwear! I can't find my blankiieeeeeee" She stopped with the voice, and began chucking the rabbit into the pot. "Have you even considered looking for your stuff and not blaming the dog? How is it that I need to do fucking everything?!"

Alistair was about to open his mouth, but found himself cut off. Again. Suami's cheeks were turning red, and with the rabbit in the pot she stabbed her knife into the ground before the fire. "Have you guys even once paused to consider that I'm not the fucking Maker? I can't carry everybody and everything, and at the moment the only one offering me any support is the fucking DOG! And even then you all start about socks, and rabbit stews, have you even considered what we actually need to do? Raising armies, killing Logain, killing that wanker Howe, fighting darkspawn, and the small matter of finding the arch demon, oh and killing it! And figuring out how to KILL the bloody thing, and all the while, you lot are harping on about SOCKS!"

She stood up, abruptly, "I'm meant to be in a castle, trying to pick a suitor, instead my family was slaughtered, my home burnt to the ground, my brother missing, and here I am, stuck with you lot and YOUR FUCKING SOCKS!"

By this time, the entire camp had fallen silent, all eyes turned towards her and poor Alistair who was trying to disappear into the ground. The only sound was the popping of the fire, and Suami's laboured breathing. Suddenly she came to her senses, and paused. The flush of embarrassment covered her cheeks.

"I'm sorry." Alistair broke the silence. "I had no idea you had been through so much."

"No." Suami spat. "You didn't even bother to ask." And with that she turned around, stalking into her tent.

Schmoopals stood up, his eyes on the templar who felt rather sheepish. Whining he tilted his head before disappearing off.

"Well...._I _knew." Zevran said gently, wandering over to the pot and investigating the contents. "I'd already asked, but then I haven't been dancing around her like a love struck school boy."

"Indeed!" Leilana agreed, walking over and tasting the stew, "It's rather like the school yard, isn't it?" She suggested, before adding some salt. "You pull her hair, she punches you, life moves on. Next you'll be sharing a juice box."

"What are you on about?" Alistair said.

"Oh you stupid oaf." Leilana scolded, gently. "You're always asleep when she's taking watch, but she's usually in that night shirt of yours that the dog stole. It doesn't look like a very warm thing to sleep in, to be honest." She offered a smile, before sitting down in front of the stewing pot.

"Huh." Alistair mused. "So that's where it went."

"I'm sure she hasn't washed it either." Zevran added. "It's still got dog drool stains on it."

"Perhaps it's the smell?" Leilana suggested, "I did once catch her sniffing the collar."

"Her dog isn't that attractive." Zevran replied with a grin, "Perhaps it's someone....else?" The elf's brown eyes glanced at the templar with a suggestive raise of the brow. "Or perhaps she just really likes the dog....After all, she has turned my advances down, Mine!"

Leilana giggled "Oh surely she wasn't able to resist your charms, master assassin?"

"Ahh, but that she did, although truly I think she may have been too much woman for me to handle anyway...such fury, such passion..."

"You are not very modest are you now Zevran?" Leilana retorted.

"Ah but one cannot be modest in the game of seduction, wouldn't you agree my bardic friend?"

They continued to banter as Alistair quietly got to his feet and left them to it. Wandering to the edge of camp he stared out at the woods, letting out a long sigh.

"I'm such a fool..." He muttered to himself, one hand passing through his hair, rubbing the back of his head. "Such an ignorant idiot."

There was a whine behind him, and then a soft bark. Turning around, the templar looked at the dog. "What do you want Schmoo?" He said quietly.

The dog whined and dropped his nose to the ground, pushing something forward with it. Approaching the dog Alistair saw that it was the rose he had picked back at Lothering. "Oh Schmooo...." He complained, reaching for it and checking that it hadn't been destroyed by slobber. "This is very precious, Schmoo no touchy!"

The dog barked at him, more aggressively this time, before gripping Alistair's trouser leg and dragging him towards Suami's tent.

Before he could protest, they were there. And the dog barked again. And again. Alistair was about to leg it when Suami's head popped out. Her eyes were red rimmed, and her voice just a little too thick.

"What?"

Alistair hesitated, then the dog barked again.

"Here," Alistair decided, holding the rose out to her. "Look at this."


	4. Once Upon A Time The Jolly Warden

The group of companions stood outside the inn. "I really, don't believe it."

"Well, believe it," Morrigan said. "I quite like the image on the sign."

Suami tilted her head, and eyed the inn's picture. There was a man. A man in armour. He held a tankard in one hand, a head splitting grin and rode a white griffon. In his other hand, was the head of a darkspawn.

"Well, I like it." Zevran chimed in. "Adds a little frivolity. You wardens are too well known for lacking in the frivolity department."

"But....The...Jolly...Warden...." Alistair sighed. "The...Jolly, Warden. Jolly."

"Oh well." Suami said, stepping forward and opening the door. "I don't believe in signs, but this was one if ever I saw it. Perhaps they can deliver on their promise and we'll leave this place Jolly."

….

Alistair was grateful for being indoors, and the hot bath. He was sick of washing in streams, and washing his clothes in streams. Suami didn't know it, but he had taken her comments about his smell and appearance to heart, and was now obsessed with his hair. And it was so hard to style it without a mirror. He felt clean, refreshed, revitalised. Perhaps tonight he would finally approach Suami and see where things between them stood. If they were on the same page. Her acceptance of his rose, and the jest about going to bed all seemed fairly genuine, but he had chickened out in the end. He wasn't quite ready. Perhaps tonight he would--

His train of through was interrupted by Zevran. "Alistair! My dear friend!" He called jovially down the corridor. "How are you old horse? Enjoy your bath?"

They stopped to chat in the hallway. "Yes I did rather, it was good change. If only we could convince Oghren to take a shot at the bath."

"Hmm yes." Zevran said, his eyes unashamedly roving over Alistair's body. Suddenly the templar was very self conscious. "I must say, Alistair," The crow went on. "Your training regime gives you credit, you must have ladies falling at your feet quite frequently, hmm? Men too?"

"Wh...What?" Alistair stuttered, lifting his spare towel towards his chest in an attempt to cover up.

"Come now! Don't be bashful, if you have it flaunt it! I know I do."

"Um. Yes. Quite." Alistair muttered.

"Anyway, I must be onward for my bath," Zevran said, making to move past Alistair. But at the last second his footsteps faltered and he tumbled forward, reaching out to Alistair to steady his balance. One hand found purchase on the other man's chest, the other slipped past his waist towards his behind. Zevran straightened up, and offered a cheeky grin.

"Whoops." He declared, before his wandering hand shamelessly gave the templar's arse a squeeze.

~xXx~

"He hit my faaaace!" Zevran bemoaned, "My beautiful face! Now no-one here will even look at me twice, I'm disfigured!"

"It's only a black eye Zevran," Wynne said, sipping wine. "I've got a poultice that will reduce the bruising if you like."

"It's too late now....." He lamented, peering at his reflection in a spoon. "Look, the purple clashes horribly with my golden locks. Who could do such a thing to such a beautiful work of art?"

"You did grope his behind," Leliana said softly, "I think you deserved it, I'm sure Alistair wouldn't have appreciated it. He's never struck me as.....that way inclined."

"Can you blame an elf for wanting a feel of that?" Zevran responded, lifting the cold piece of steak to his face. "He's been purposefully running around in front me for week. Wiggling it back and forth. Taunting me with it. Leaving me mad with desire and curiosity. Alistair was asking for it! Suami has already made it clear she is not interested, who else am I to pursue? Oghren?"

There was a moment while the three companions contemplated the alternative.

"That....would be pushing it." Wynne said gently, reaching forward and peeling the steak away from Zevran's face. "You really must consider letting me create a poultice Zevran, at least let me get rid of the swelling."

"I rather think he's wearing it like a badge, a war wound?" Leliana suggested.

"I shall have my revenge...." Zevran mused.

At that moment Suami entered the busy tavern bar, spying her companions she pulled up a stool and sat with them. She offered Zevran a smile and glanced between Wynne and Leliana.

"What happened to you?" she asked grinning at him.

"Your templar took offence at my appreciation of his 'hind quarters,'" Zevran declared. "He's worse that your dog, at least he growls first before he bites you."

"Alistair punched you?" She replied, unable to hide the admiration in her voice.

"In the face!" Zevran's hands pointed to his face, and the huge purple bruising forming on his right eye "My beautiful face! How will I tempt one of these lovely ladies back to my bed tonight? My soft indoor, treat of a bed?"

"Well..." Suami contemplated. "We could get you an eye patch. You could tell them you're a pirate from a far flung country, and you lost your eye in a battle with a furwal."

"Don't be—" The assassin paused. "I _like _ that idea." And with that he left the table, dashing off to locate an eye patch.

The girls laughed, and Suami ordered herself a drink and some food from the serving girl. With that done, she turned her attention back to Wynne and Leliana, "So are you feeling better Wynne?" She asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You had us terribly worried."

"Oh, I'm fine." The mage replied softly, smiling gently. "Thank you for concern, child. But there really is no need to worry."

"I just wanted to make sure. Can't have you dropping dead on us in the middle of a battle, ya know?" Suami smiled, and their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Suami's drink. And Alistair.

"Evening all." He said, eyes looking for Zevran. "Any idea what's for dinner? I hope they have cheese."

The girls replied with a snigger.

"Whaaaat?" Alistair was beginning to feel like the butt of a bad joke.

"Oh, nothing dear child." Wynne said softly. "We had just been discussing your blossoming romance."

"Romance, what romance? There's no romance?! At least, I don't think there is, is there?" Panic crawled across his features as he glanced at Suami, who was smiling into her drink.

"Really?" She said, raising her eyebrows. "I was under the impression that there was. Are you saying there isn't?"

"No, I mean, Yea, Uh...Um, is this really the place to be discussing this? We're not exactly alone..."

"Alone? When else are we supposed to talk about it? We've already discussed it with Zevran. In great detail."

"What detail? Zevran, what's he got to do with it?!" Alistair's blush was moving into his forehead.

"Awww, poor Zevran." Leliana said. "He'll be heartbroken."

"What? How? Why?" Alistair was getting desperate. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Well...your fist did connect with his face, correct? At least, that's how he tells it...Unless it was another part of your anatomy.."

Suami sprayed her mouthful of beer all over Alistair, who had stupidly sat across from her. He winced. "Sorry!" She snickered, giggling into her beer.

"You're bad women. All of you. Evil, Bad, women."

"Oh, really, Alistair." Wynne piped up contemplatively. "What romance did yo think we were discussing?"

"Um..Nothing. Nevermind. I was just confused." He then swiftly got the attention of a serving maid, and changed the topic of conversation to enquire about cheese.

Fortunately, there was some and food was ordered. Just as the meal was finished there was a happy declaration from doors of the tavern.

"I found some!" Zevran declared, positively bounding over to his friends, gripping his find tightly by the wrist. "I've found a pirate! There's a whole bunch of them!"

He was dragging in a poor, dishevelled, slightly confused sailor. His uniform was crumpled, and there was what appeared to be a vomit stain down his front. He was wearing an eye patch at a jaunty angle. It was clear someone else had put the eyepatch on him.

Somewhere, Zevran had acquired himself a tricorn hat with a large red feather in it. This was worn at a rather dashing angle, and he had also managed to get himself an eyepatch, which now covered his bruised eye. He shoved his new 'friend' down on a stool beside Alistair and plopped himself into the empty seat beside Suami. He flashed Alistair a triumphant, toothy grin.

"And I've found the perfect one for you, my dear lady. He's got three legs, and only one of them is wooden." A little nudge and a wink. He waved his mostly empty bottle of rum enthusastically.

Alistair shot the elf a nasty glare. "And how would you know that he right for her, Zevran?" He forgot himself for a little bit, finding himself particularly disliking the assassin this evening.

"Because she and I, discuss our feeeelings with each other, my good friend Alistair. Instead of punching and running when things do not go our way."

"What?"

"Well, I can graciously accept when a woman chooses another over myself, there are plenty more fish in the sea."

Suami interjected at this point, not really keen on where the conversation was going. "You are looking rather dashing in that eyepatch, Zevran dear." She said, confident that turning the elf's conversation back onto himself would derail his train of though.

"I am rather, aren't I?" He declared, draping one arm about Suami's shoulders, "Now tell me, if I was to say to you, "Argh, Pirate Zevran reporting for duty," His other hand dropped to her thigh, giving it an obvious squeeze. "Prepare to be boarded." A wink. "Would it make your loins burn for me?"

Alistair visibly tensed. His jaw clenched, and Leliana watched him bend his spoon in one hand.

Suami chuckled, both hands reaching up to pat Zevran on his cheeks. "Positively." She replied flatly. "Now go and try it on the brunette behind the bar, she looks thick enough to fall for it."

"Ah...you break my heart dear lady. Alas, you shall be mine yet!" And with a smooch on her cheek, the elf departed for more accessible pastures. With a chuckle Suami watched him depart with a shake of her head.

"Well, I must got to bed." Wynne declared with a theatrical yawn. "Leliana will you help an old woman to her room"?

"Of course Wynne," Leliana winked at Suami. "Good night you two, don't stay up too late." And with that the other two women left, leaving a little bit of an awkward silence.

"So you and Zevran..." Alistair began, only for Suami to hold up a hand to silence him as she reached for her pack. From it she withdrew a small bundle tied with a little green ribbon. Gingerly she reached forward and took his hand, firstly removing the bent spoon grasped within it, and placed the little package there.

"Here." She said softly. "I wanted to apologise for the other night, for yelling at you like that. I shouldn't have lost it."

"Oh." Alistair said. All anger and jealousy draining away. "Um, thank you. What is it?" He eyed the little package cautiously, wondering where Suami found a green ribbon.

"It's a gift silly." She teased, reluctantly drawing her hands back into her own lap. "Open it."

Carefully he perked an eyebrow at her, before untying the ribbon. It fell away and he unfolded the material to reveal a three pairs of lambswool socks. They were new. They were fresh, and they were clean. "Wow!" Alistair gushed, "They even have my name on them!" With big eyes he smiled over at Suami. "I don't know what to say."

She nodded towards one of the socks. "There's more."

Alistair unfolded the final sock, and something small and silver clinked gently into the palm of his hand. As he lifted it up to the light to examine it, he spotted Andraste's holy symbol carved onto the locket.

"What's this? Is this my mother's amulet? It has to be!"


	5. Once Upon A Time Part One Up A Mountain

**Once Upon a Time … (Part One) Up a Mountain **

They had been climbing for at least an hour. It was cold, but there was no snow. Yet.

"Keep moving!" Suami encouraged. "They say the tomb is at the top of this mountain." Suami said, drawing her cloak about her tighter.

The wind was vicious and swirled about her legs. She was grateful for the extra pair of leggings she had bought herself.

"Lovely!" Morrigan piped up behind her, "So we can freeze to death while digging for the bones of a mad woman!"

"Oh it's not so bad," Alistair added, with a grin. "Could be worse! Anyway, isn't this nice cold air invigorating?"

"For you maybe," grumbled Zevran. "No-one mentioned cold mountains. Remind me again why I took up the oath for your lives? I was pretty sure at the time you spared my life that no-one mentioned climbing cold mountains."

"I could end it for you now, if you like?" Suami suggested.

"Dying at the blade of a beautiful sex goddess..." Zevran mused. "I can think of worse fates."

"It doesn't necessarily need to be by blade..." Alistair said, aware that the little green eyed monster was rearing its ugly head. He leant forward and gently shoved Zevran in the back, "One faltering little step and poof! Gone, I bet we wouldn't even hear the splat." He turned the tone of his voice to teasing, just in case anyone noticed.

Up ahead, Morrigan slipped and stumbled, her mage staff clattering heavily on rocks. She swore.

"Ugh! I see no point in this ridiculous venture! Let us just let the dying man die and have his wife or brother help us deal with this Loghain."

"Heeeeey!," Alistair protested, "There is no man more capable than Arl Eamon. We've got to at least try. If it wasn't for that blasted apostate, we wouldn't even be in this mess! And besides. The way Suami slapped Isolde across the face, I don't think she'll be quite willing to co-operate with us without her husband's persuasion."

"Oh will you two PLEASE stop bickering!" Suami paused, turning around to shout back at them. "Maybe if the two of you stopped bitching at each other for five minutes, you might actually have the breath and ability to climb up _this bloody_ _mountain!_"

Her blue eyes glared at the mage and the templar, who both had the good sense to look a little sheepish. Letting out a sigh, Suami pulled her cloak about her again and continued to set off up the mountain. Silence reigned. For about five seconds.

"Maybe I was wrong before Morrigan."

"My! Admitting your stupidity are you?"

"What? No ... what I mean is when I compared you to your mother."

Morrigan turned and glowered at the templar.

"Hey! I'm trying to compliment you here!"

Morrigan raised an eyebrow, folded her arms and cocked her hip out expectantly.

"Trying and failing."

"Fine forget it. All I was going to say was that from behind you don't look anything like her. You walk straighter."

Morrigan's head twitched, confused at the templar's choice of words.

"Anyways I'll shut up and talk to someone else then." He waved her off as he walked onwards ahead of her. He had just about caught up with Suami when she raised her hand in a fist, indicating silence and for everyone to stop.

"Darkspawn!" Alistair exclaimed, hauling his shield around just in time to deflect a thrown dagger. He ducked behind it and ran forwards just as the beasts ran towards them, drawing his sword and letting out a battle cry. He hacked and slashed his way through the first two, just as Zevran began to fell them with his bow and arrow. They quickly began to fall, and the dog surged in to rip the throats of those that didn't die from the assassin's shots.

Morrigan swiftly shrugged off her cloak, hitting the first Hurlock that swept past Alistair and his wall of death with a ball of fire that sent it hurtling over the edge. Suami made for the rock face, clambering up it and peering ahead. It was too foggy to see anything, so she leapt down on the other side of the group.

She opened the throat of the first genlock that turned towards her, its hot blood spraying over her. Rushing towards a tall hurlock she swiftly kicked it in the back of the knee, plunging her dagger into the back of its neck as it crumbled. As it fell to its knees it shot a crossbow bolt back the way it came, and let out an ear piercing screech.

"There's more coming!" Alistair said, quickly wiping the blood off his face and sword. "That was the scream of a scout."

"Then I propose we move up there," Zevran suggested, nodding his head to the rock face. There was no solid platform, but plenty of small places for individuals to stand. "And let them come into this killing ground here." He indicated the wider plateau where they had just been fighting.

"Excellent idea Zevran. Morrigan can you..." She waved a hand, "Get rid of the bodies?"

The witch nodded, and waved a hand. All four of the darkspawn exploded, and for a second all the companions stood in an awkward silence.

"Great." Zevran said finally, "Now I'm cold, and covered in darkspawn innards. Lovely."

Suami turned and clambered up the rock face again, the others following her. They had just got up to a decent vantage point when the first of the group of darkspawn stepped into the clearing. It was quickly followed by about 15 others, and they bunched up in the middle, pausing to crouch and examine what was left of the scout party.

Silently, Suami indicated to Morrigan that she should move further down and unleash some sort of fireball into the middle of the group. And once that was done Alistair should leap down at one end, and she would leap the other. Morrigan and Zevran were to stay, and fire into the group.

A nod, and the witch let loose a fire blast which took out two genlocks and set a few others alight. Zevran began a rain of arrows and took out another three, and Alistair leapt down and began to hack and slash his way through the rest. Suami did likewise, only to the north of the group. She killed another hurlock before she spotted it - it looked like a regular genlock. Aside from the horned helmet and the rather....extensive armour. It's eyes had found her. It laughed, fire forming on both it's hands, before it hurled the fire ball at her.

Suami dived desperately to the right to avoid it, tucking into a roll and rising to her feet. Swiftly she snatched up her crossbow, and clicked a bolt into place. She spun around, took aim, depressed the trigger...

And was hit by a wall of ice. She couldn't move. Every part of her was stiff, frozen. She could only look on as Alistair stepped in front of her, his sword swinging through the air as he decapitated the Emissary. She watched as if everything had been slowed down as its head spun into the air and the knees crumbled. Her crossbow bolt had already left the mechanism. Alistair was already turning to look at her, concern already written upon his features. She wanted to shout out, to tell him to get out of the way...

Then suddenly Suami could move.

"Alistair!" She shouted, the bolt suddenly hurtling towards Alistair. He turned around, just in time for the bolt to hit its unintended mark. It sunk feather deep. At this close a range it had clattered through his splintmail like it was cheese. Blood seeped from the wound. Alistair touched his fingers to the bolt, and looked up at Suami incomprehension rife on his face. Their eyes locked.

All colour drained from the templar's face. "Ow.." He said gently, before his knees gave way.

Panic overtook Suami, she rushed forward, catching him before he fell and lowering him gently to the ground. "Morrigan!" She screamed, her stomach overturning, one arm around the templar's shoulders her other hovering over the bolt. Should she pull it out? Leave it in? "MORRIGAN!" Suami yelled again, desperation evident in her voice. Alistair through the pain and the feeling that his chest was filling up with water, noted the terror on her face. He went to speak, only for Suami to cut him off. "No no no, don't you dare die on me you stupid virgin..." Her fingers brushed over his cheeks. "You're not allowed to die on me!" She said to him, swallowing, and her voice thick. "You've not had a chance to wear all your socks yet, you can't die without wearing your fucking socks...I can't have the first man I bought socks for dying on me..."

She wasn't wearing her gloves. Alistair thought, and her fingers were soft, so soft…

xXx

"You're no use to anyone exhausted."

Someone was scolding someone else. They were trying to be quiet, and not doing very well.

"And I'm no use to Alistair if I'm not here when he wakes up!"

That was Suami. He could tell. When she spoke in that tone of voice she expected to be obeyed, and when she spoke in a tone that suggested she was to be obeyed, it meant nobody was listening to her and doing what she said. In other words, she was crabby.

"No use? He's healing just fine. Truthfully he would probably heal better if you weren't hovering around in here all the time. He needs peace and quiet."

That was definitely Wynne. Alistair could tell by her tone of voice that she was trying to be patient and reason with someone who was beyond reason. Cautiously he opened his eyes, peering over to where the voices were coming from. They took a moment to come into focus, but he could see that they were in some sort of tavern. Or, at least they were indoors anyway. The bed underneath him was comfortable and warm. Suami was standing in the far corner, dressed in a fairly simple pair of leggings and an oversized tunic. Could it be his night shirt? It was hard to tell at this distance. Wynne was in her usual, and looked unimpressed.

He sighed, heavily, and his chest became a riot of pain. Suddenly he was over come with a coughing fit, and was in agony. Spots danced before his eyes, all the colours of the rainbow and some colours never seen in nature.

"Hey hey, shhh shhh..." He felt hands on his forehead. Soft hands. "Take it easy."

"Yes, take slow, shallow breaths." That was Wynne. She did not have soft hands.

Alistair took shallow breaths, and the pain eased. He felt Suami's finger tips brush over his temple and briefly through his hair. He opened his eyes properly this time, and took in the worried face before him. It was worried, but smiling.

"Welcome back." She said softly. Alistair noticed that, yes, it was his night shirt. And it was slipping off her left shoulder and revealing smooth milky skin.

"You shot me." He replied, letting his eyes leave the curve of her neck to look at Wynne who was standing on the other side of the bed and watching him. "In the chest."

Suami looked sheepish.

"You..." Alistair coughed again, "Shot. Me."

Suami glanced away, straightening up, and pulling the nightshirt back up over her shoulder.

"I can't believe it. You. Shot. Me! You shot me!" Alistair pushed himslef up onto his elbows, and glared at Suami. For all her concern and all her sweetness, she had still shot him.

"I didn't mean to!" She exclaimed, folding her arms over her chest. "You stepped right in front of it! Who steps in front of someone wielding a crossbow?!"

"Oh so it's _MY _fault is it?"

"Yes! I had the entire situation under control." Suami snapped her face turning into a glare.

"Under control? You were frozen! The damn thing hit you with a spell you never saw coming! It would've thrown a fire ball at you, that's what Emissary's do! Did you not pay attention? During training?" Alistair pushed himself up against the head board of the bed, and narrowed his eyes at her.

"And...what training was I supposed to have received, exactly?"

"Ah, right." He said replied softly. "I forgot about that. Well, it was still stupid. And you didn't have the situation under control. You should at least concede that point."

"Fine, I'll concede that I didn't have the situation so long as you stop going on about it." Suami unfolded her arms, and sat on the end of the bed, pouring Alistair a glass of water from the pitcher beside the bed.

"No, I feel that I deserve to go on about being SHOT." He accepted gratefully, downing a glass before continuing. "Consider this payback for Zevran."

"What's the Antivan got to do with this?" She refilled his glass.

"You know fine well what he has got to do with it! If you two are involved then tell me. Don't lie to me. Don't sneak around."

"Zevran and I," Suami let out a short snort of a giggle. She waved a hand dismissively "We're friends Alistair. Very good friends. Nothing more. Even how much he'd like to have me I'm just not interested."

"Huh. Not interested. Then why let me think that?"

"I thought you knew we were friends. Just friends. Are we even now?"

Alistair shook his head and grinned, "Not even close. I'm still going to hold this against you for making me jealous."

"You- you were jealous?" she stammered. "Why?"

Alistair felt the familiar flush on his cheeks. "Well." He hesitated, desperately searching for an excuse. "A fine, good looking woman like yourself." A pause. "Um, Interested, in a little. In a womanising short arse like Zevran." He coughed, glancing away from her and fingering the edge of the bedsheets. "It hurts one's pride, you know. You should be aiming for someone better, someone better than a perverted elf that sleeps with anything with a pulse. It doesn't sit right, hearing you tell the dirty, horny little assassin that he's gorgeous and going on to me about my smelly socks."

"But your socks do smell." Suami pointed out. "Because you never wash them."

"So do the elf's!" He pointed out. "It's... natural. To feel jealous when one member of the team is being told how gorgeous he is all the time by the group leader, and you only get a pat on the back when you kill more hurlocks than anyone else." Alistair lied, giving Suami a side long glance to see if she was buying it.

She tilted her head, and raised an eyebrow, before letting out a sigh. "In that case Alistair, I am sorry. You are very handsome yourself, even when you're all wrapped up in bandages and haven't bathed for a week."

With that, Suami patted him on the head and got up. "I'm going to go and get some rest. Now that I know you're not going to die, I better head off and get those bloody ashes."

End Of Part One ....


	6. Rantings and Date Night

**Once Upon a Time ... (Part Two) Rantings and Date Night ****  
**  
"He said he was jealous, actually jealous, and does he do anything about it? No, he just lies there and says it's because he was feeling under appreciated by me...." Suami remarked, kicking loose a stone on the path up to Haven.

"Perhaps he was just under pressure from Wynne's presence?" Leliana offered.

"No Leliana. He just sat there saying that what I say to Zevran is like favouritism. I mean it's a Blight for Andraste's sake! Not a beauty contest!"

"Well I for one have no idea what you see in that fool. He is handsome yes but he has the mental capacity of a frog!" Morrigan called back.

"I wasn't asking your opinion on his intelligence Morrigan." Suami scowled, "You don't give him enough credit, and he _is_ intelligent."

"Ha. I highly doubt that." the witch chuckled.

Leliana eyed her rogue friend. She noticed Suami's hands had grazed over the hilts of her daggers when Morrigan had insulted the templar. Suami's brow was furrowed and she glared her arch demon felling stare into the back of the witch who walked on ahead. Leliana grinned. Perhaps it was time she had a little bit of fun with this 'situation' of Suami's. She quickly took on her bardic acting and sighed dramatically.

"Oh I don't know about a beauty contest Suami, but Alistair would be top of my list."

Suami quickly turned her head, her eyes narrowed on the bard.

"What?"

"Well. As you said. He is intelligent, endearing, very well sculpted and not to mentioned disciplined. I'm just saying that he has admirable qualities that I find attractive."

Suami stopped in her tracks.

"You ... find Alistair attractive? Really?" Suami looked almost hurt but kept her voice steady and even.

Leliana suppressed the giggle with her bardic smile and nodded.

"You. Leliana. Find Alistair, the templar virgin and man with the most obscene taste in jokes, attractive?" she said, this time with a bit more bite.  
Suami felt a strange feeling come over her as her friend nodded and shrugged while moving onwards. "I may even go to say that I feel a certain, affection, for him.**"**

"Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean, it's Alistair? I-I wouldn't think he'd be your type Leliana."

"Oh and what is my type Suami?"

"Well ... someone who washes his socks for one thing."  
Leliana giggled but Suami wasn't finished. "Then there's the whole thing of how he talks to women. Then there is the fact that he's the heir to the throne."

"That would give the Bard more than enough reason to bed the idiot." Piped up Morrigan.

"Leliana you wouldn't would you?" Suami looked at her friend with horror.

Leliana let out the hysterics she was holding in so desperately.

"Oh that's just cruel! Both of you!"

"Tis satisfying deceiving people when they are foolishly led by their hearts and emotions," Morrigan said.

"Oh Morri! It was to show her that she really does care for our little Templar. Nothing more."

"Yes, you say that now. Love, grows rotten on the vine, so quickly. A sour fruit, that offers only a memory of sweetness, what is it worth, truly?"

"We shall see, won't we Suami?" Leliana said.

Suami shot Leliana a side long glance. "Who the hell mentioned love?" She muttered, running her hand through her hair. It was time to change the subject.

"So, did anyone else notice anything weird about the folk in Haven?"

~xXx~

"Could you not drool on the bed covers?" Alistair said, his eyes wandering to the mabari who was lying sprawled out at the end of the bed. It was chewing on some sort of bone, and for the last two minutes Alistair had counted no less than three droplets of slobber. He'd been bed bound for two days now - Suami had taken Morrigan and Leliana off to look for the ashes. He wished he could've gone with them, but considering he could barely lift a glass of water at the moment, he knew he would've been next to useless. Still, it was nice not to be running around outside in the cold. But then, Schmoopals had decided that Alistair's bed was the best bed in the place, and no amount of persuading convinced the dog to get off the bed. And when he had attempted to kick the war hound, it had nearly taken his foot off.

"I mean, really. I have to sleep on this, and you smell bad enough as it is.... Suami will really moan at me if I smell of wet dog drool when she gets back."

The hound ignored him, continuing to knaw on the knuckle bone. It crunched underneath his jaws.

"You only listen to Suami, don't you?"

The dog remained silent.

"So. You and the boss?" Oghren grinned as he took a seat next to Alistair. That darn dwarf could be sneaky when he wanted to be.

"Pardon?"

"You and the boss. Rolling your oats." He did a motion with his free hand after setting down another tankard. Alistair just looked confused.

"I don't know what you -"

"Polishing the footstool?"

"--What you're--"

"Tapping the midnight still, if you will?"

"What are you talking about?"

The dwarf stared at him blankly; the kid couldn't be that stupid right? He thought, maybe the swamp witch was right. Maybe he wasn't being ... explicit enough.

"Forging the moaning statue?" Still nothing. "Bucking the forbidden horse?" Ok. The sodding chantry has really screwed this kid up, he thought.

"Donning the velvet hat?"

Alistair still just stared blankly back at him. "Are you just making these up?" He concluded, pointing an inquesting finger at Oghren.

"By my ancestors! Forget it!" The dwarf exclaimed, downing the tankard he had brought in with him, and then snatching up the one he had brought in for Alistair.

Sten walked in. He filled the doorway, blocking the light in a rather ominous way. The silence that filled the room was almost suffocating, and withOghren confusing him already, the former templar was pretty damn sure he wasn't going to put up with it.

"Don't you ever talk? You know, make polite conversation just to put people at ease?" asked Alistair, staring at the giant man filling the doorway of his room.

"You mean that I should remark upon the weather before I cut off a man's head?" Sten remarked.

" ... Nevermind. "Alistair sighed, shaking his head, "There is no point talking to you about women."

"The only thing you need to know about women is to give them a wide birth when they're mad. And be sure to calm them when irritated."

"Is Suami mad at me?" Alistair asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Well she did save your life ... after she shot you that is. Then you wake up and the first thing you do is shout at her. Yeah she's a bit mad at you. She's not stupid remember!" the dwarf gawffed.

"Well what am I supposed to think? She's going off with the elf but she accepts my gift. Then she gets drunk with the elf and he gropes me! Then they both flirt with each other in front of me but after everyone's gone she gives me socks and my mother's amulet! What am I suppose to think?!" Alistair rubbed both his hands over his face, letting out an exasperated sigh. "One second she's hot, the next she's cold."

"You're not much better yourself, Alistair." Oghren pointed out.

"Perhaps you should just ask her outright." The Qunari said, folding his arms across his chest. The brief pearl of wisdom from the stoic character left them all a bit stunned.

"But what if I don't like the answer?" Alistair wailed.

"Then perhaps you need a bit of the old...Antivan Courage?" Oghren produced his canteen, and offered it to Alistair with a little shake of his wrist.

"It might loosen your tongue. Then you might actually get a chance to ride the bucking bronco."

"There's something filthy about the way you said that." Alistair accepted the canteen however. Oghren's dirty laugh filled the room.

~xXx~

"I can't believe you managed to do that to yourself." Alistair teased, a week later.

"Be quiet." Suami's response was short, sharp and to the point.

"I mean, really, you weren't even fighting some darkspawn. Or even a pack of rabid wolves!"

"I'm warning you Alistair..."

"Come on though, don't you find it the smallest bit amusing?"

"Alistair!" Suami warned.

"Tripping over a boot! A boot!"

"It was your bloody boot!"

"I wasn't wearing it at the time; I've been wearing these looooovely dragonplate boots you got me."

"You, Alistair, are a bastard."

"That's royal bastard to you!" the templar grinned, impishly.

The party was back in Redcliffe. Arl Eamon had been successfully cured with the ashes, and boy was he mad. The ashes they brought hastened his recovery extremely well, and it was the evening of his recovery that Suami had wandered into Alistair's room to ask him about something when she had tripped over one of his boots scattered haphazardly about the place. She'd sprained her ankle badly, and had been unable to walk on it for a day now. Everyone had been teasing her relentlessly. Especially Alistair.

"So what is it Wynne wants anyway?" The Cousland said, swiftly changing the subject.

"I don't know." Alistair replied. He was helping her to walk down the corridor, one arm about her waist to support her weight. She had one of herarms wrapped around his shoulders and was hobbling gingerly along. "All she told me was that she wanted to see us both about something important and grey wardeny."

"Grey Wardeny?"

"I'm paraphrasing here."

Suami nodded towards a door. "This is it, isn't it?"

"Yea." The two of them entered the room, in which stood the rest of the party. It had obviously been some sort of study, but had been rearranged. There was a dinner set out on a small table, and a fire burned in the hearth. Letting go of Alistair Suami hobbled over towards Wynne, plonking herself down in the nearest seat and looking at the mage expectantly. Shale the golem loomed near the doorway. "It has become very close with the other Grey Warden." Shale said plainly looking at Alistair.

"Uh...yes, I suppose I have at that." He hesitated, stepping away from the golem and eyeing it cautiously. There was something odd about this whole...set up. There was an air in the room and it was an air Alistair knew well. It was awkward.

"I find this difficult to comprehend. It is whiny and weak and constantly laughing." Shale went on.

"Then I guess a romance between you and I is completely out of the question?" He suggested, very bemused.

"And the attempts at humour. I cannot understand how it is endured"

"With great difficulty Shale," muttered Suami, leaning back and eyeing the dinner spread on the table. She snatched up a strawberry and nibbled on it.

"It has a loud mouth. Why its head has not been crushed already is hard to imagine." The golem declared, and at that Suami couldn't help but laugh.

"Or maybe you just happen to figure she likes me a lot more than she likes you." Alistair retorted, frowning.

"Don't be foolish."

"Yes, I thought so. Everyone seems to like her but none of you seem to like me." He practically huffed, folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm going to stand over here now. Guarding the door until it and the loud mouth have decided on their relationship."

"Relationship?" Both the wardens said in was a long pause. Suami hated long pauses. Her eyes moved over to Wynne and she raised an eyebrow at the mage.

"Wynne? What's going on?"

"Well..." Wynne said, "We've been talking, and we figured that you and Alistair needed a little...alone time...to iron out your differences."

"Excuse me?!" Alistair said from across the room.

"You two just need to relieve a little sexual tension." Zevran piped in. "It's plainly obvious and you'll both feel much better for it."

"That, or sort out exactly how you feel about each other." Leliana added.

"Here's some Antivan Courage, boy." Oghren pressed a bottle of wine into Alistair's unresisting hands. For a second he opened his mouth and shut it again, aghast.

"Qunari tradition requires weapons and armour." Sten added, and he pointed to a weapons rack in the corner. "The others assured me that wasn't necessary, but I insisted."

"Um, thank you?" Suami grimaced, worried about where all this was headed.

They all began to file out, and as she paused in the doorway, Morrigan waved a hand. Half the candles went out, giving the room a certain, romantic ambience. "Figure it out." Were her departing words, before she slammed the door shut behind her. For a second after they left, Suami and Alistair exchanged glances. It was the first time they had been properly alone together since Lothering. Since Ostagar, really, and even then that didn't count as they had constantly been under threat of darkspawn attack. Carefully, Alistair set the bottle of wine down on the table.

"Shall I attempt the door or would you like to?" He said, softly.

"By all means, you go ahead." Suami replied with a sigh.  
Alistair tried the door. Surprisingly, it opened. Unfortunately, Shale stared back at him. The golem easily filled the whole doorway. "Um, excuse me?" Alistair said, trying to peer around the great stone person. "Any chance of me getting by?"

"I have decided. It is definitely an idiot. The elder mage told me it could cancel her magical wards otherwise she would have set them." Shale explained, "It asked me to stay and make sure it and the leader resolved their problem ... preferably without breaking any bones or making crunching noises with its noisy head."

"Ah." replied Alistair, before gently shutting the door in the golem's face. He wandered back over to Suami, who was still sat at the table with the dinner spread over it. She was attempting to uncork the bottle of wine, and failing.

"Here, let me." The templar said, holding his hand out. Suami gave him a long look, before handing him the bottle of wine. Easily he popped it open, before pouring the wine into the two glasses set in front of them. He sighed, and sat down in the chair opposite Suami.

"There's cheese." She said gently, pushing the plate toward him. "Three different kinds." The rogue offered him a smile. It was beautiful. Alistair paused for a brief second before the temptation became too much. He cut off a huge chunk of cheese and wolfed it down.

"Hey, leave some for me!" Suami grinned, nibbling on another strawberry.

She had to admit, the others had gone all out. There was cheese and fresh bread, some good chunky slices of cured meat. Strawberries, celery, some weird cake looking little things. Everything was cold, but it was all a welcome change from "Various types of food cooked in a big communal pot."

"This is good cheese." Alistair mused, pushing the plate back in Suami's direction in case he gobbled the rest down.

"So's the wine. I'm surprised, actually." Suami mused, twisting her wine glass in her fingers. "I'd have thought Oghren wouldn't have cared for the taste, so long as it got him drunk."

"Soo ... I'm wondering something. I'd like to know your thoughts on some of our travelling companions. Do you mind if I ask?" Alistair swallowed a mouthful of wine, eyeing it carefully before looking to Suami.

The rogue shrugged, "I suppose."

"What about Zevran? You don't trust him, do you? I mean he did try to kill you."

"Alistair, you know what I think about Zevran, he is a good friend of mine and I wish you would stop pushing the subject. I trust him, so drop it."

"But how can you? I mean, I know he jokes about betraying you, betraying us but...come on?"

"He's had plenty chances to slit our throats while we're sleeping, he's not going to, now just...drop it."

There was a long pause and the two of them glared at each other for a little bit, before Alistair broke the silence and went for another question.

"What about Morrigan then. Do you trust her?" It was a tentative question, but one that had been playing on his mind.

"I do, actually. I don't see what she has to gain from helping us, but she seems to know what she's doing. She's also pretty insecure, once you get to know her. Flemeth really messed with her head. What do you think? Do you trust her?" Suami reached for the celery, cracking off a stalk and taking a crunch.

"Well besides the fact that she is a complete and utter bitch! No I don't, really." Was Alistair's frank and honest reply.

"Aw come on!" Suami exclaimed, setting her celery stick down. "How can you say that when you've never given her a chance?"

"I have!" snapped Alistair, "And every time I have she's called me stupid, or mocked my beliefs, or just generally been a bit of a cow. I've offered her an olive branch loads of times, and every time she's thrown it back in my face."

"You're not much better yourself Alistair, every time she's tried to make amends with you, you've been too busy up on your high horse to even-"

"My high horse! What about you? You're too busy buying everyone presents and being the perfect Mary Sue Leader Person, and then having a strop when someone suggests doing something a little bit differently, or suggests maybe we do something else..."

"Oh, well why don't you lead the group?"

"I would but no-one wants to listen to me, they're all too drawn in by your fake interest in their lives and well being!"

"My fake interest in their well being?"

"Why else would you be surrounding yourself by all the crazy, untrustworthy waifs and strays?"

"If they're all waifs and strays, what does that make you, Alistair?"

By this point they were yelling. Both had got up out their chairs, hands were waving, fingers were pointing. Alistair's face had turned red. The vein on Suami's forehead was throbbing.

"It makes me no better than you!"

"What the Maker is that supposed to mean?" Suami was screaming, she'd never been so furious in all her life.

"I don't know! That you're a bit of a bitch?!"

"By that reasoning, you're just a dumbass!"

"Well..." Alistair faltered, unable to think up a decent insult. "So's your face!"

"Well, that was a witty comeback!" Suami hissed, glaring at him, "You really are dim-witted, aren't you?"

"Stop calling me stupid!" Roared Alistair,

"Oh yea? Well what are you going to do it about it Thickie?"

Alistair had never been so angry in his life. He was about to explode. He could've killed her. He could've really, really hurt her by that , he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled Suami towards him.

And kissed her.


	7. Coitus Interupptus

**Once Upon A Time ... Coitus Interupptus  
**  
Suami broke quickly away and with a crack, slapped Alistair.

"How dare y--"

She was quickly cut off by his mouth crashing against hers again. Her mind tried to fight against him but her body yearned and she was lost in the kiss. Tongues fought for dominance as the two battled to take charge. Alistair, for once, was winning this duel and gaining the upper hand. He pulled her closer and ran his right hand up over her belly towards her side then up into the small of her back. With his left hand he cupped her cheek and tightened his fingers in Suami's long blonde hair. Suami's hands rested on Alistair's face then slid into his close cropped hair, pressing against his scalp. All inhibition was lost as the two settled the arguments they had with their mouths.

To say Suami was shocked at Alistair's boldness would have been an understatement. She was completely bowled over. She cared for him, yes but he was such a frustrating person to be around. But Leliana was right. He was all those things. Endearing, disciplined, intelligent and by the maker, was he gorgeous. She wanted to see if he looked as broad and as powerful out of his plain clothes as well as in them. Alistair, on the other hand, had other ideas. Suami felt him moving them backwards. Unresisting she complied until the backs of her thighs pressed against what was obviously the desk.

_Surely he's not thinking? He is isn't he._ _Oh Maker,_ Suami thought. As one strong arm swept behind her, throwing the food, plates and wine to the floor, her suspicions were confirmed. Swiftly his hands cupped her buttocks, and lifted her up to set her down on the desk. He began to scatter feather-light kisses down her neck, fingers running along the shape of her and desperately clawing at her thighs. The rogues own hands traced the contours of the muscles under his shirt coming to rest at the back of his neck. Suddenly she felt his fingers against the flesh of her side, and Suami moaned for all this. She ached as his hand tentatively, but fiercely groped over the flesh of her belly, her ribcage, before coming to rest on her breast. She groaned as his thumb flickered over her erect nipple, turning her head to find his mouth again.

As they kissed again his movements became stronger more sure, more hungry. Suami's eyes snapped open as they broke their kissing frenzy. They both panted, breathless from the battle of their tongues. Alistair pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed. She had a burning question she couldn't get rid of.

"Whose desk is this?"

"Don't know, don't care." Was Alistair's reply, his lips finding hers again. Their breathes became quickly ragged again and soon the hurried kisses became frantic. Unashamedly Suami moved her hands to the hem of Alistair's cotton shirt and yanked it up over his broad shoulders. They broke away as she pulled it over his head before throwing it down on the ground.

Andrastes Knickers! He _was_ just as well-built as she had imagined. Not overly muscular but well formed and toned in all the right places. Suami noticed the minute scars that highlighted the weak points in his splintmail. Her eyes travelled over his chest and then stopped at his newest scar. The one she had given him. Unconsciously she brushed her hand against it and grimaced as she remembered how she felt that horrible day. She pulled her eyes away as Alistair's hand captured her hand kissing her knuckles. As her eyes met his Alistair was acutely aware of how hungrily she had let her eye roam over him. It only made the templar long for her more. Gently he cupped her face before leaning in leaned and his let his lips meet hers once more. Greedily, Suami let her hands settle on his now bare chest and then allowed them to wander over his taut belly, strong hips to his shoulders and grasped him around his neck again.

Their bodies pressed together, Suami's back carelessly thumped against the great wooden desk. Alistair's hands began to push at her tunic, forcing it up her belly...

~xXx~

"No...It's not urgent." Arl Eamon frowned at the Golem. "But it is important."

Shale's rocky stare peered down at the Arl and Bann Teagan. "What The Wardens are discussing is important."

"Yes, but this is concerning the blight. The blight is important to everyone, yes?"

Arl Eamon was trying to reason with the giant stone person. It may have been a little bit of a mistake. Nevertheless, it seemed to take his argument into consideration. Then suddenly there was an almighty crash from inside Isolde's study. Teagan and Eamon's eyes opened wide and they gestured urgently to the Golem. "Out the way out the way! Someone could be injured in there!"

Golems were never noted for their quick and graceful movements. Like a glacier Shale got up out the way, for Eamon to slip past it and fling open the door to his wife's study.

"Alistair! Suami!" He exclaimed, worry written across his features.

The scene that greeted his eyes wasn't exactly one he...well..expected. In his mind he had been picturing them fighting darkspawn, or one of them succumbing to a poison because of their injuries.

Alistair at least had the decency to stand up straight and cough. Suami lay sprawled on the desk, legs firmly wrapped about his adoptive son's waist. Swiftly she pulled down her shirt, unhooked her legs from about Alistair's waist and busied herself smoothing the wrinkles out of her shirt. Alistair coughed again, refusing to meet the Arl's gaze. His hand ran through his own ruffed up hair, lingering at the back of his neck. He could feel the blood drain away, only to rise from his chest and start to spread up his neck. His cheeks and ears began to burn.

"Disgusting!" Declared the Golem before wandering off.

With the ice broken, Teagan was the first to speak. "Well. Um. Yes." He was definatly holding back sniggers. Suami shot him a glare, but struggled to suppress the grin dancing on her lips. She bit down on her lower lip and glanced to Alistair, who was flushing a dreadful red. Lifting one hand to her mouth, Suami began to nibble on the nail of her index finger, letting her eyes head back to Arl Eamon. His cheeks, what could be seen of them beyond his face eating beard, were flushed red. His mouth hung slightly agape, eyes wide with surprise.

"Alistair!" He said, finally, aghast. "Really! On my wife's desk!"

Teagan quietly snorted with laughter just behind the Arl. His hand was clamped over his mouth as he suppressed the giggles. Suami creased up too, biting down on her lower lip until it turned white. In the end she had to bite down on her knuckle until it hurt.

Alistair, mortified, still avoided the Arl's gaze as he reached for his shirt. "Sorry, Ser." He mumbled, lifting it up and holding it to his chest. He was finally able to step away from Suami, and offered her his hand. "We'll um. Er. We'll be...going..."

Suami, taking the hint hopped off the desk. The two of them slowly, hand in hand, walked (or in Suami's case hobbled) past the shocked and probably slightly angry Arl until they reached the corridor. As the turned down the end of it they heard Teagan collapse in laughter, and then the two wardens themselves creased together in howls of laughter.

Over the din of guffaws', Arl Eamon exclaimed, "Its not funny Teagan! That's an expensive piece!"


	8. An Alistair Misadventure

Once Upon A Time … An Alistair Misadventure

"Now, don't forget to get everything on that list." Suami said, eyeing Alistair carefully. "Make sure the Dog does his business, and be back at camp before it gets dark, OK?"  
Alistair felt about three years old. He nodded, peering at the list which had names, descriptions, and drawings of a collection of herbs. "Yes Suami." He said gently, offering her a smile. "I'll do my best."  
"Right, I'm trusting you to manage to lead them Alistair. You're in charge." Suami smiled at him reassuringly. "I'll see you guys later, OK?" With that she waved, and headed off with Wynne, Leliana, Morrigan and Sten to check out Denerim. Bodhan and his son were left in charge of the camp, and they ignored Alistair as he looked back down at the list in his hand. His tongue flickered out over his lips, his face formed into a worried crease and already he could feel the sweat trickling down his neck and into his splintmail.  
"Aw shit." He muttered, under his breath. He had been left In Charge.  
In Charge.  
It was a horrible responsibility. Things always went disastrously wrong when he was in charge. He could be in charge and not even be in the room, and things would go wrong. In the most dramatic fashion too. Like, being in charge of the stew. Sure, some people might burn it. Or over cook it. Or add too much salt. When Alistair was left In Charge of a pot of stew, it would spill all over some clean washing, or explode up the fireplace, or poison Arl Eamon's favourite dog!  
"You appear to have been given bad news?" Zevran had sidled up next him, and was peering at the note clutched in Alistair's hand. "I hope it is not disastrous news my friend..." And rich amber eyes sought out worried hazel ones.  
"I've been left In Charge." Alistair lamented, rubbing the sweat from the back of his neck with the note. Zevran could hear the capital letters fall into place. Quirking a brow he tilted his head up at the templar inquisitively.  
"This is bad?"  
"Very Bad. Bad things happen when I'm charge. Things explode, people get lost, and before you know it we're all knee deep in sewage without any drawers on."  
Zevran did not want to know the story behind that dramatic statement, but he did not doubt it was true. "Perhaps..." He suggested, gently prying the list of instructions out of Alistair's unresisting hands, "You are exaggerating, yes? How hard can collecting some herbs and plants from the forest be?" The assassin's eyes ran over the sweat smeared instructions. "And why would Morrigan give you such cryptic instructions? A test of your intelligence perhaps?"  
Alistair glanced at the note. When he had rubbed it on his neck, his treacherous body had excreted perfidious fluid (sweat) all over it. The ink had ran.  
"Oh no... It begins..." The templar moaned.

~xXx~

"It wasn't my favourite, but it was a promising brew!" Oghren growled, tramping along behind Alistair. "Why did you decide to lead us through the bog instead of around the bog? Are you forgetting that those beneath you may not be so well endowed in the leg department _your majesty?" _  
Alistair glowered quietly to himself. Truth was, he hadn't even spotted the bog. Not until he'd fallen into it, anyway. It wasn't a pretty bog. There was gas stuck under it somewhere, that exploded to the top in wet, sticky, sad little half formed bubbles, each one sending up the stink of rotten darkspawn corpses. There was no wildlife frolicking nearby, and no give. He was currently waist deep in the stench and had the sneaking suspicion it was going to get deeper before they managed to find solid land.  
"Have you visited here before, Alistair?" Zevran piped up, talking over Oghren's grumbling. The dwarf had lost one of his many canteens of beer that was tied to his pack a while ago in the bog, and hadn't shut up about it since.  
"No." Alistair grumbled. "Never been here before."  
"Truly? As I am sure that your Pea and Lamb stew has a similar texture and smell."  
Alistair stopped, turned around, and glared down at the elf behind him, who raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "You're not helping." Alistair hissed through gritted teeth. "So shut up, and try to find a way out of here." The templar turned around and attempted to flounce off through the thick bog.  
Zevran sighed, shook his head, "Very well..." And moved off. There was a horrible moment when a vacuum was created, and a definite sucking motion formed around his ankle. Helpless to stop his already commanded foot, the assassin felt his leg part ways from soft, expensive leather. It froze him to his very core.  
"Nooo!" He angst, swinging his leg up to stand on his other and peer at his now bootless foot. "My boot! My beautiful leather boot! It's gone!"  
Oghren, who was mindlessly grumbling on about his missing beverages, didn't realise that the elf had stopped dead in his tracks. He clattered into the back of the elf, who due to the viscosity of the bog, and partly due to comic narrative, fell very slowly face first into the muck. There was a sad little "splut" noise as he impacted, and a sense of defeat where he momentarily lay absconded in the filth.  
"Oops." Oghren snorted, a grin crawling across his features. Alistair paused in his walking, turning around to look upon the scene. He felt a deep sense of foreboding. More so than the usual type, anyway.  
"That's it!" Zevran declared, regaining a vertical position. One hand pointed accusatory at Alistair. "You Ser, are a dreadful excuse for a leader!" He waded through the filth towards Alistair, his face turning red with anger. "First, you ruin the list of instructions, then you convince us all that it was OK to eat that root, then you lead us into a bog, where I lose my boot and my status as the most handsome man in this foolish venture! I am declaring mutiny! I will lead us out of this Maker-forsaken pit of eternal stench!"  
With that the elf marched as best he could away in a decisive direction. Unfortunately he wasn't paying very much attention as the flabbergasted Alistair waved frantically to indicate that the direction he had chose was a bad one.  
The antivan fell into a tar pit.  
"Well..." Alistair mused, "At least I know a tar pit when I see one."  
"Enough!" Zevran screeched. "I'm going back to camp!"

~xXx~

After they had fished Zevran out of the tar pit, which involved hooking Schmoopals up to a harness which he didn't really appreciate (he expressed this displeasure by biting Oghren on the bum) the elf stalked off in the direction they had come. Oghren had found his beer (it was in his beard) and so was still happy with Alistair's leadership. So was the dog, for reasons best known to himself.  
"Will you stop with the infernal whining!" Alistair shouted at the dog for the umpteenth time. The dog barked, and let out a low growl of protest. The dog had desperately been trying to tell Alistair (he was the leader after all) that they were being watched. But the templar took no notice. He had found three of the seven herbs that Morrigan needed, and was pleased with himself. With the elf gone and Oghren happy, he found that his mission was going pretty OK, considering he was In Charge.  
"Help, Help, Somebody help me!" A breathy voice heaved through the trees.  
Alistair paused and exchanged a glance with Oghren. They then both took off in the direction of the cries. Once they had come around the vast expanse of tree they came into a well lit clearing to find a scantily clad dalish elf hanging from a nearby tree. Her hands were above her, tightly bound and she hung at least two feet off the ground. That wasn't what Alistair and Oghren saw first unfortunately. The poor dalish's robe, which had now been reduced to a mere tattered and ripped rag, barely covered the majority of her unmentionables. Her predicament highly extenuated her bust and the flesh almost bulged out of her already revealing rags. She was shoeless, obviously distressed at being left hanging and her hair hung unbound and fell down the sides of her face. Alistair and Oghren stood stone still and looked upon the beauty. Hearing their approach the elf looked up and smiled.  
"Oh! Thank the Gods! Please help me!" as she spoke her chest heaved and both Alistair and Oghren felt their gaze fall from the creatures face to her chest. Alistair cleared his throat, shook his head to regain himself and moved forward to help the elf down.  
"Yes ... ERM, of course we'll help dear lady!" Alistair blushed furiously.  
Oghren followed the templar as he approached the hanging elf. He stood short of the elf's position as Alistair went further on to cut her down. She slowly descended into Oghren's arms, her heavy chest brushing against his.  
"Oh thank you!" she huskily said into his ear.  
Oghren blushed and grinned widely. "Anything for a beautiful damsel."  
"My two shining knights, you must let me repay you. Please, come to my village it's not far and that evil Shem will be back soon," she breathed her dewy eyes running over Alistair's body.  
Alistair blushed more profusely and began stammering a reply. Oghren interrupted. "Of course. You might be able to help us find these herbs we're having finding."  
Schmoopals growled suspiciously at the elf but she ignored him, her concentration set on breathing heavily and looking at the two men with 'come hither' eyes.  
"Of course, this way."

~xXx~

They walked roughly 15 minutes west. When they approached the camp, the dalish elf, who had introduced herself as Jasmine, the first thing Alistair noticed was that Dalish women didn't appear to wear very much. He was used to Chantry priestess who, generally, were covered from neck to ankle even in the hottest weather. Alistair began to think that combined, the female dalish dress wouldn't even make a single robe set for the reverend mother.  
Oghren grinned, as he watched a number scantily clad women rush towards them. "Oh Jasmine!" One declared, "This one's a hairy one!" And her arm draped around the dwarf's shoulders, fingers entwining with one of his beard braids. "Well, well..." He began, before another dalish woman wrapped herself about his other side. "You are a handsome man, aren't you?"  
"Get off him Cookie, I saw him first!" Hissed the first girl.  
"Nu-uh! Candi," the second girl growled back.  
"Hey, hey ladies!" Oghren pulled both girls in by their hips. "There's enough Oghren for everyone!"  
The two dalish ladies broke down into giggles.  
Alistair had now acquired a dalish on his arm who was intent on staring into his eyes a little too closely for his liking.  
"This one's a BIG Shem!" squealed the girl, clapping her hands in delight. The two women hanging on either side of Oghren turned and equally let out squealing girly noises as they both swamped Alistair.  
"Please if you will, we're here to see your leader, if you'd kindly ta-," at that point someone had pinched Alistair's behind and he let out a pitiful yelp.  
"Girls!" an authoritative voice raised above the chattering and the horde of women parted letting through an equally beautiful female dalish warrior. "These men are our guests, Jasmine and I will take them to the Chief."  
The armoured dalish looked at Alistair with her large green eyes and smiled, but Alistair didn't like the way she did it. Something about it was a little too suspicious even for his easy going nature. She gestured them to follow her and Jasmine towards the largest of the Aravels in the dalish camp. As they drew closer Alistair couldn't help but become more uneasy as the sound of giggling became louder the closer they drew to the Chief's Aravel. He cast a sidelong glance at Oghren who just grinned and shrugged. "With all these hot fillies about I'm not surprised." Alistair shook his head, "You are so perverse! I'd expect something like that from Zevran not," Alistair thought about that for a moment and then corrected himself. "No on second thoughts I would expect that from you and him."  
"Well aren't we lucky he isn't here," the dwarf chuckled, "He'd have hated to miss this out." Alistair grinned, yes the elf would definitely hate to miss this out but it was his loss in the end that was until he entered the Aravel and caught a glimpse of something that he wished the Maker himself would burn from his memory. His smile was quickly wiped from his face as Zevran lay on a bundle of furs, fully naked, tied up to a pole cross legged with a pair of dalish elves doing what only Alistair could describe as some sort of 'position'. The elf looked undisturbed but shook his head and sighed as the ex-templar's mouth hung open in shook and disgust.  
"Trust me, this will not the worst thing you will ever catch me doing," he sighed.  
Alistair stammered, opening and closing his mouth flabbergasted at the sight and averted his eyes as the elf slipped out of his restraints and pulled on a simple robe. Once decent the elf dismissed the girls and welcomed them to his humble home. Alistair couldn't believe it. "They made you chief?"  
"Why, does that surprise you my friend?" the assassin shrugged. "There are no men here, as far as I know I am the only one, well I was the only one until you arrived."  
Alistair looked at him in horror, oh maker they were in far too deep. "What do you mean there are no men here?" Then it dawned on Alistair. "Oh Maker Suami is going to kill us!"  
"Well, kill you maybe, not us," Oghren grinned as he eyed one of the nearly naked girls.

~v~

They were overdue and Suami couldn't help but feel a little worried for the small group.  
"If anything's happened to the dog I'll kill him!" she muttered to herself. She stared out into the forest, her arms folded and her brow furrowed. She glanced over to the slowly rising sun and felt her shoulders tense. Right, that was it, she was going out to find them. Even Alistair in his big oafish feet would be easy to track in the dense undergrowth of the forest.  
"Morrigan!" she called over her shoulder to the wilds witch. "We're going to go find them."  
"Well I hope he has fallen and hurt himself and not just got him and those delinquents lost wandering the forest," the mage growled.  
"Morri, don't say such things he could be genuinely lost or hurt," replied the Orlesian. The two women joined the Warden at the edge of camp, they could already tell that their Commander was tense and worried. Whether it was for anyone else besides the dog was a different story. The mabari always came first before anyone. "C'mon girls, lets go save the babies," Suami sighed before walking into the forest.

~v~

Leliana scrunched her nose, trying desperately not to breath in the foul stench. "Yeeeech! Why would Alistair take them through a bog?"  
The three women had unsurprisingly found Alistair's trail through the forest, though they had obviously avoided the bog taking to walk at it's edge. Though they had found a single leather boot that Suami was sure she recognised. The trail was so plain to see, Suami's keen eye noticed, that she wouldn't been surprised that the group had been followed by something more sinister. It would have to be something else she'd have to teach the ex-templar. Especially if he was the one who would have to make a discrete exit from her tent anytime soon. She cast a look over to her bardic friend.  
"Well ... perhaps he thought there was someone on their tail?" wanting to defend the poor templar.  
She faintly heard Morrigan snort ahead of her. "Doubtful considering the person following them was using the tree's."  
Suami narrowed her eyes at the tree's, her darkspawn senses weren't picking up anything but it didn't mean that they weren't being watched now. So the group cautiously continued to follow the trail of the missing men until they came across a clearing what appeared at first to have a trap set. Suami halted Leliana from going to close to the elaborate contraption and crouched to her knees to examine it further. It wasn't a clever trap, any idiot could see that it was a lure for much larger unsuspecting prey and Suami had a sinking feeling that this may be partly due to Alistair and his merry bands disappearance. Whoever had set it however, wasn't expecting the three men to have worried companions looking for them, otherwise they wouldn't have left evidence. As Leliana set about looking for their trail Suami searched the trap for any clues to the possible captors of her menfolk. She of course didn't mean to think of them as property, but more like investments and she wasn't about to let some miscreant forest dwelling mutt take them off her. She'd worked on them for far too long for someone to just swoop them up like a cat catching a canary. And besides, who would put up with all of their faults. Suami scrunched up her nose, who could stand Oghren's smell, Alistair's socks and Zevran ... well Zevran's outlandish and lurid behaviour, it was beyond her.  
The women followed the trail for another half hour taking care not to make their presence known. Suami had Morrigan transform into a bird who perched on her shoulder as she navigated her way through the path the, now two men, had obviously taken. By now they had discovered that Zevran, being the lighter in weight and foot impressions, had moved off elsewhere and that left Oghren, Alistair and Schmoo. Suami vowed that she would kick Alistair's ass for letting the elf go off on his own, for all the elf knew there would be crows just around the corner to kill him. The sight that met her around the next bend however, did nothing but fuel her temper further. There, sat just in his smalls on a chair was Alistair blushing like a loon with a, for lack of a better word half-naked Dalish elf on his lap stroking his chest. Suami felt the embarrassment mix with jealously, shock and anger slowly rise from her toes to her cheeks very fast. But it wasn't Alistair that saw her first, the elf did. Suami narrowed her eyes at her, the rogues arch demon glare at full effect.  
"Oh!" pouted the elf, "Are you lost?"  
Suami gripped her daggers and pulled them out in one clean movement. "No." She said shortly. "I'm here to pick up my boys." Morrigan left her shoulders and transformed back into her normal form and folded her arms at the scene. The elf looked down at Alistair, who by now was looking at Suami with mixed relief and fear. "But we haven't began our games yet," the elf moaned.  
"Yes. Well." Suami coughed. "I'm sorry but Alistair, Zevran, Oghren and Schmoo have to help me and these ladies here help put a stop to a Blight, I'm sorry if that is of any inconvenience to your tea party!" She hissed. Her eyes glanced to the other three aravels that lay nearby, two of them had an awful amount of giggling coming from them and Suami inwardly shuddered. Leliana giggled behind her while Morrigan grinned at the templar's predicament. Suami just closed her eyes and shook her head before bellowing, "ZEVRAN! OGHREN! Get out here NOW!"  
Silence and then a hurried number of squeals, and pleas of 'stay', 'don't go' were heard before the two love machines stumbled out. Oghren nodded to Suami and muttered 'Boss' while Zevran offered a flamboyant bow and a greeting of 'my dear warden'. The Cousland rolled her eyes and then promptly pointed her dagger at the elf and Alistair.  
"Him too Missy, he's mine."  
The elf, again, pouted before slipping off the relieved ex-templar and frolicked off into one of the aravels. Suami's eyes followed her before narrowing back on a very embarrassed, but grinning Alistair. Suami glared at him before turning on her heel and walking back into the forest without a word. Alistair looked at Leliana for support and found nothing but the ex-lay sister trying to suppress a laugh with her hand. She quickly turned it into a mock frown but her attempt fell slightly short. It took him a few seconds to realise that the rest of the party were leaving and he shot out of the chair a little too quickly and losing his balance unceremoniously fell over. Alistair pulled himself up and quickly tried to catch up with Suami while trying to pull back on his leggings.  
"Suami wait!" he called out, one hand held out while the other bundled up his shirt and leggings. The rest of his armour was being gathered up by Leliana as she sniggered at him out of the corner of her eye. The templar fumbled about with buttons and laces, tripped but caught his balance as he stumbled through the forest after the warden.  
"Suami!" he called again as he caught up with her. She half turned to face him, her eyes narrowed into that dark foreboding glare. She was obviously upset about something as she stuck her dagger out just short of his exposed chest.

"Careful Alistair. This is a dagger, watch that you don't get in the way of the pointy end!" she growled and continued to march back to camp.  
"Please let me explain!" he said, his arms held up. He wouldn't put it past her to just stick him with it judging by how tightly she was holding onto the hilts. "It's not what you think, we were held captive."  
Suami spun around again and looked at him, her eyes livid. "Held captive!" she shrieked. "By Dalish swingers! Don't make me laugh Alistair you weren't exactly making it difficult for her!" she hissed.  
"It's true!" argued the templar, he anxiously looked for someone to back him up, unfortunately it was Zevran. "Tell her Zevran!"  
The musical voice of the assassin reached her ears. "Ah my cara bella it is true we were held captive by their beautiful gazes and their elegant hips," the elf mused. This did nothing to help dampen the situation and Suami promptly turned away and marched off without another word.  
Alistair glowered at him, his face turning a deeper shade of purple. "Not ... helping ... Zevran." he hissed. Suddenly Alistair felt that familiar buzzing at the back of his mind whenever darkspawn drew near and suddenly just ahead of Suami a genlock appeared at her left and charged. Suami didn't even stop, instead she pirouetted and sliced the creatures throat with her still unsheathed daggers before continuing to walk ahead. Another came at her right and she simply dug her other dagger into its stomach, hauling upwards to its neck then, still continuing to walk on, retracted it with a yank. One final hurlock came straight at her but the rogue didn't even bat an eyelid before she thrust both daggers, then twisted them deep into the hurlocks chest. She stopped briefly for the darkspawn to fall at her feet before casually stepping over the gasping body intent on getting back to their camp.  
Alistair swallowed deeply and Zevran offered him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry my friend, I'm sure she wasn't imagining your face on any of them." The ex-templar looked at the elf a little fearful and then sighed deeply. Maker help him.

"Come along, little pike twirler," Oghren grunted at him, pushing his flask of ale into Alistair's unresisting hands. "We'll have a drink and figure out how you'll dig yourself out of this one, shall we?"

Alistair groaned.

* * *

_Hi All! Sorry for the loooong awaited update of this comedy romance we hope you all enjoyed this edition of Alistair's misadventure! Please read and review even if its just to say you liked it etc. Hopefully both of us will have more of our own stories coming up in the next few weeks so please stay tuned. _

_Thanks, Mousemage and Leask  
_


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